


Never Letting Go

by innertimetraveldetective



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Post-Episode: s05e22 The End, chadwick boseman died so im sad so this was birthed, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26169292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innertimetraveldetective/pseuds/innertimetraveldetective
Summary: Jemma finds Daisy crying after she finds out Coulson is dead, so she comforts her.
Relationships: Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson & Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Never Letting Go

Grief crashed over her, hitting her like a tidal wave. She slid to the floor, barely holding in her gasps. He was what she’d held onto, he was her anchor, the only solid thing about her life for the last 5 years, and he was gone. She gasped for breath, her stomach aching, emptiness washing over her. She knew she had a duty, she had a job, there were things she needed to be doing, but the floor was so comforting, her tears were salty, familiar. She would stay. Just for a little while. Her head was buried between her knees, she needed to be alone, to process, just her, just to block out the world for a second. She cried for him, for how soon it was, how untimely, she cried from the shock, even though she’d known to expect it.

She remembered May telling them. Mack had gotten the call when they were at dinner. It was just Daisy, Mack, Elena and Jemma left. His phone had rang and he’d excused himself. He came back minutes later, to Daisy’s hopeful face, Jemma and Elena looking at the ground, not wanting to watch their friend break. He shook his head at her, and so Daisy ran. She ran until she couldn’t bear it anymore, until she couldn’t carry the weight of it anymore.

She’d been dimly aware of the gentle quakes that had been rocking the lighthouse; she loathed them. She hated herself, her stupid powers, his stubbornness. She hated how willing he’d been to die, to sacrifice himself, because to hell with the greater good, she needed him. She’d been lost, and he’d found her. She didn’t know who she was without Coulson, without his gentle guidance. He was the only father figure she’d known, and he’d left her as well, just as everyone would. 

There were voices, footsteps, calling out, coming for her. A hesitant knock at the door. She didn’t say anything, she wasn’t ready to fall back to Earth just yet. Her head remained between her knees, she squeezed her eyes shut tight. Not yet. The door opened, someone walked towards her, sitting down next to her, laying a hand on her back. She leaned into their touch, their gentleness, longing for comfort, but no. This was wrong. He usually did this, he was usually there, to comfort her, to hold her. And he never would be again. 

She lifted her head, looking over to see who was with her. Jemma looked back at her, eyes glistening with fresh tears. He’d been a father to her too, but seeing Daisy in this much pain was too much. It was soul crushing, seeing her best friend grieve and being helpless to do anything. Jemma knew Daisy had gone through a similar thing with her a few weeks ago, just holding her after Fitz had gone, rocking her to sleep, comforting her through it. Jemma had no idea how difficult it had been. She understood now, how much strength it must’ve taken Daisy to be there, by her side the whole time, watching Jemma cry and scream and yell, losing her mind over Fitz. She knew she was far from okay now, but Daisy had priority right now.

She wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Daisy leaned her head on Jemma’s shoulder, crying into her jumper. Jemma held her as she sobbed into her, whispering comfort to her, ignoring her own tears, how her own voice was breaking. Daisy stopped crying after a while, her previous shaking sobs turning into small gasps every now and then as the realisation hit her over and over again. He was gone. Jemma picked up the water bottle she’d brought, offering Daisy a sip. She took it, the smooth fluid gliding down her hoarse throat. She downed half the bottle, her eyes swollen and red from the tears. She passed it back to Jemma who took a sip for herself before putting it back on the ground beside her. Jemma gave Daisy’s shoulder a squeeze, resting her head on hers. 

Daisy leaned into Jemma, taking comfort in her familiar smell, her frame, how she leaned her head against Daisy’s. She was too numb to say anything, but Jemma seemed to understand, not initiating any sort of conversation. Just her being there was enough. 

She thought about the day she’d met him. She’d been Skye back then. She’d been a kid back then. She hadn’t known half of what she knew now, and Daisy wondered if she was better for it. She wanted to go, to yell at Skye, to tell her to savour every moment with all of them, with Trip, with Bobbi and Hunter, with Lincoln, with Fitz, with Coulson, because life was misleading. It’ll make you believe you have all the time in the world with the people you love, and then just like that, in the blink of an eye, they’re gone.

She thought about Skye. How lost she’d been, how scared, how confused. She thought about how she’d clung onto any hope of a family, grasping at straws, longing for familial love. She’d found it. Not just in Coulson, but in Jemma, and May, and Mack. They were her family. They would always have her, she’d always have them. But is this what family meant? Knowing people, people who would change you forever, and losing them before you’re ready to say goodbye? She thought about all she’d lost. Not just people, but a childhood, how she’d been deprived of the right to be a child right from the get go. How quickly she’d grown up, how long she’d been fighting to survive. And for what? What was she fighting for? The chance to lose people over and over again. No, that wasn’t right. She was fighting for the people she’d lost, for their memory, and for the people she’d found, their lives. 

She could hear Jemma’s heart beating. It was steady, reliable. Jemma was like that. Solid, she wasn’t going anywhere. She searched for her hand, to grasp it, to squeeze it, to feel life in her fingers. She took Jemma’s hand, cold fingers meeting cold fingers. She interlocked their fingers, squeezing her hand tightly, never letting go.


End file.
